Come What May
by AngelRosiel
Summary: Still a virtually plotless Pietro/Kitty story with a Lance and Scott get stuck doing a project together subplot. Chapter 2: Um... Kitty and Pietro run into each other at the movies and have a spat. Yay!
1. I'll Show You, Lance!

  
A/N: Well, this story may seem a little odd. This would be because it started out as a Scott/Lance (hence the reason why it opens in Scott's general POV), but for some reason I didn't feel like doing that anymore, so it suddenly became a Pietro/Kitty. There. Now you know. After this (or during this), I'm going to write a totally different story about Scott/Pietro (I don't know how that happened, it just... did). And then there's also the sequel to "The Power of Slushies", but I don't know what to do with it yet, so it's on a break. 

Oh yeah, and this takes place after "Shadowed Past", and I'm going to disregard the events in "The Cauldron" (as I will for all of my fics). 

**Chapter 1: I'll Show You, Lance!**

Scott Summers hated Lance Alvers. Well, maybe he didn't _hate_ him, it was more of a strong, mutual disliking. He simply couldn't stand the other boy, his supposed Brotherhood "counterpart". He was cocky, rude, had no regard for rules, and worst yet... Scott had him in not one, not two, but three-- count 'em-- _three_ of his classes. He didn't even know how that had happened, it was like Mystique had the sickest sense of humor in the world and thought it would be funny to see what wacky problems would arise if she arranged for Lance to _invade_ his classes. 

Scott sighed and stared at the back of Mr. Jameson's balding head as the man recited another dull lecture and scrawled notes on the board at a speed that even Quicksilver probably couldn't keep up with-- though that probably wasn't true; Scott simply liked to think that in order to feel better about the fact that his hand was seriously starting to cramp from all of the writing. 

Slowly, he shifted his red-tinted gaze over to Lance, who was too busy napping lightly to notice the disapproving gaze. 

_How could that delinquent've possibly made it into this class?!_ he wondered for about the hundredth time, as it was now a question that he found himself asking daily. From what he'd heard, the other mutant was barely even passing the class, and it was utterly ridiculous that he remained in AP US History instead of getting bumped down to average. 

"So, who can answer the question? _Mr. Alvers!_" Mr. Jameson thundered, waking the boy up with a start. 

"Huh?" he mumbled sleepily. 

Scott groaned. _The idiot. The answer is so obvious._

"How many people were killed in the Boston Massacre?" 

"Uh... five?" Lance answered uncertainly, causing the teacher to frown tightly in disbelief. 

"Why, yes. Lucky guess, Mr. Alvers. Now, who was leading the group of colonists that was fired at?" the slightly vindictive teacher tried, attempting to get Lance to screw up. Apparently, he disapproved of Lance being in the class about as much as Scott did. 

"Um... George Washington." 

"So, essentially, you are saying that George Washington was killed in the Boston Massacre. Very intelligent answer, Mr. Alvers," he remarked in a voice dripping with dry sarcasm. "If you weren't sleeping so soundly in my class, you would've known that _Crispus Attucks_ was the man who led the group of colonists, and was one of the five who were killed by the British." 

"Sorry, sir," muttered the slightly peeved Lance. Normally, he would have more to add to the comment, but today it seemed like he was just too tired to care. 

Thankfully, the bell cut off Mr. Jameson before he could continue his interrogation of Lance. The students shifted to stand, but were halted as he held up a hand and said, "Hold on, I haven't dismissed you yet. Take one of the packets on that desk over there. It covers your newest project. Check the door to find out who I assigned as your partner. I'll answer any questions you may have on Monday. I suggest you get together with your partner over the weekend." A pause. "You're dismissed." 

Hurriedly, the students flocked over to the desk bearing what would be their life for the next few weeks-- or months, depending on how long Mr. Jameson intended the assignment to be. Scott grabbed his own copy, then walked over to the door, scanning for his name and praying that his partner would be Paul. 

His eyes skipped over the names of his classmates and came to a rest on "Scott Summers". And then beside his name was... 

_Oh, God, no. Why? Why?!_

Scott backed away from the door in partial shock and annoyance. Quickly, he approached Mr. Jameson's desk and said: "Sir, what did I do to deserve _that_?" 

"Well, Scott," My. Jameson started, calling the boy by his first name, as he happened to favor him more than most of the students in his class, "You're a good student. That's why you need to _help_ your fellow classmates. Mr. Alvers will probably fail the project without a responsible partner such as yourself." 

"But-- But, he's--" 

"I'm not discussing this with you, Scott," he cut in calmly as his students filed out to go home. "Have a nice afternoon." 

"Yeah, you too," Scott mumbled as he dejectedly grabbed his backpack and headed out. 

* * * * * 

Lance grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. He pushed. Nothing happened. _Great. Jammed again._

"Damn it." He pushed again, harder, applying more force to the stubborn door. Still no luck. Scowling, he pounded his fist against the sturdy old wood and shouted: "Hey, Pietro, open the door for me, will ya?" 

No answer. 

"Come on, damn it! Open the door!" 

"I don't wanna get up," came the reply, spoken at a speed that was unusually slow for the younger mutant (though quite normal for most people). 

Lance ceased his knocking and sighed. "Fine," he muttered, twisting the knob again and planting his foot against the lower part of the door. "If only Todd were here right now," he said under his breath. The scrawny freshman and Freddy had decided to go out for some lunch (since the school's version of lunch that day was some strange, mysterious substance that could barely pass as dog food), which was fine for Lance at the time. However, now he wished that either one of them were here, as Todd's strong legs or Freddy's... well, Freddy would've come in handy. 

_Oh well._ He shrugged and then forcefully kicked the door, resulting in it finally yielding entry to the house. Lance let out a half-assed whoop of triumph and staggered into the house, dropping his backpack carelessly on the floor. Immediately, he found himself facing a choice. Should he just collapse onto the couch, or actually attempt to climb the stairs and get to his room? 

_Couchie. I want._ Lance walked over to the couch, swaying from exhaustion, and then fell on top of... Pietro. 

"Hey!" 

"Gah!" Abruptly, he shot up and jumped off of the couch. 

"Geez, Lance, if you really want me _that_ bad, you could just ask," Pietro joked, grinning at the sleepy boy. He didn't look up to his normal, meticulously neat standards. The usually hyperactive sophomore was clad in a shirt a size or two too big for him (probably Lance's), his hair was ruffled and sticking up in random directions, and he was paler than usual. Of course, he _did_ have a fever of 102 last night... 

"Eh, I'm tired. Forgot you'd be on the couch," mumbled Lance as he chose to curl up on the recliner rather than tempt fate and try to climb up the stairs without falling asleep. "You feelin' okay today?" 

Pietro shrugged and pulled his blanket up to his shoulders. "Better than last night. I think those daytime soaps bored the sickness out of me." He paused, looking uncomfortable for a moment, then went on to say: "Thanks for helping me out last night." 

"No problem," Lance yawned. "Just _please_ don't get sick like that again. I got caught sleeping in a couple of my classes today." 

"Hey, I didn't ask you to watch over me like some overprotective mother after I lost that _wonderful_ gourmet dinner all over the bathroom." 

"Yeah, well..." Lance closed his eyes and said in a low voice, "Don't tell anyone, but I was worried, okay?" 

"Aw, I knew you cared about me," Pietro said with a small laugh. 

"Care about you? I just didn't want you to suddenly throw up all over the carpet," Lance murmured in a sleep slurred voice. 

Pietro rolled his eyes and settled in a more comfortable position. He had been on the couch nearly all day, alternating between sleeping and feeling excruciatingly warm and ill. His stomach felt more settled now, however, and he was all sleeped out. This left a not-so-sick Pietro with tons of energy and nothing to do. He didn't really feel up to getting off of the couch, and his only company had just fallen asleep on the beaten old recliner. Pietro grabbed the remote and tapped it against the side of the couch for awhile, trying to release some of the energy in his body. 

_Well, that didn't work._

He glanced at the clock on the VCR. _Hmm... apparently it's still 12:00, as it has been for the past five days. _

Being that it was a Friday afternoon, and only about-- well, probably three in the afternoon, since that's usually when Lance got home-- there was probably nothing on except for stuff like "Jerry Springer" and that "Buzz Lightyear" cartoon. 

Deciding that he was more important than Lance's much needed rest, Pietro spoke up. "Lance?" 

Light snoring was Lance's reply. 

"_Laaaance!_" 

"What?" came the exhausted mumble. 

"Tell me a story. Pleeease?" 

"You're annoying when you're sick." 

"Really? Last week you said I was always annoying." 

"Well, you're even more annoying when you're sick," Lance said in a soft voice, indicating that he was going to be out like a light any second. 

_Oh, no, you don't._ Pietro frowned as Lance started to slip away to dream land. "I think I'm gonna puke..." 

"What?!" Lance shot straight up and gave Pietro a startled, bewildered look. "Did you eat anything today?!" 

"No, I just wanted to get your attention." 

If the remote was in Lance's possession instead of Pietro's, he would've flung the thing straight at the sick boy's head. But, things being as they were, Lance could only imagine himself doing it. "Pietro, _please_ let me sleep!" 

"But I'm bored stiff! Can you at least stay awake until the others get home?" 

An irritated sigh, a sign of resignation. Pietro grinned triumphantly. "Fine. What do you want to talk about?" Lance questioned in a very flat voice. 

"Weeeell..." Pietro thought back on the amazing events that occurred while he was home sick. "Did you know that Dr. Laura has her own TV show now? I just found that out today! And transvestites were on Maury today... Oh! And Emeril made some-- I don't know what it was, but it looked good! Can you get me some crackers?" 

"No." 

"Okay. How was school today?" 

Lance arched an eyebrow, then shrugged slightly. "I don't know. So-so. Got a project in history, I'm supposed to be partnered with--" Lance stopped mid-sentence. The information hadn't clicked with him until just then, as his mind was so muddled. "No... it can't be..." 

"What?" 

"Summers. I got paired with _Summers_," Lance whispered. 

Pietro snickered. Suddenly, the door burst open and Todd, huffing, stood in the doorway with Freddy behind him. 

_Yay!!_ Lance's mind screamed ecstatically, recovering from the momentary shock of being partnered with his arch-nemesis. Before Pietro could protest, he ran up the stairs and to his room to enjoy a full afternoon of sleeping. 

"We need to get that thing fixed, yo," Todd mumbled, thrusting a thumb in the direction of the doorway. 

Pietro nodded absently, sitting up to greet them. "Where were you guys?" 

"Eatin' lunch at that new all-you-can-eat pizza place," Freddy answered in a slightly glum voice. 

"And you're back so soon?" 

"Well, when they found out that Freddy might put them outta business, they kicked us out," Todd explained as he wandered into living room to watch some television. "Bet if we go by that place tomorrow, the signs won't say 'all you can eat' no more." 

"Okay-- hey! You're tracking mud on the floor!" Pietro exclaimed, though he wasn't about to do anything about it. Standing up was still not a very favorable option to him. 

"So?" 

Pietro shrugged. "I don't know. Can you make me some soup?" 

The amphibian-like mutant sighed and made his way into the kitchen, slouching more than usual and looking very unhappy about the task at hand. He grabbed a can of Campbell's chicken noodle soup (wondering briefly why they changed their slogan from "Mmm, mmm better!" to "Mmm, mmm good!"), sliced through the top with a can opener, and unceremoniously dumped the contents into a bowl. A smirk slowly graced his features, and he-- 

"You'd better not spit in it!" 

Todd swallowed and whined in defeat: "Aww, man! How would you know if I did, anyway?" 

"I know these things," Pietro retorted firmly. 

Freddy, meanwhile, lumbered down the hall to his own room (which was downstairs because Mystique was afraid that he might get stuck in the rather narrow stairway). 

"Can you get me some crackers while you're there? Saltine, preferably, none of that Ritz crap." 

Todd shoved the bowl into the microwave and started the timer, then, gritting his teeth in annoyance, grabbed the box of crackers and hurled it over the counters and at Pietro's head. 

"Piece of advice, Toddy," Pietro commented as he snatched the box before it collided with his head, "projectiles usually don't work well on mutant speedsters." 

Todd grunted some rather unflattering words and ignored Pietro's comment. 

* * * * * 

Kitty Pryde was in a state of horrified disbelief. There she was, a Friday evening, and she had nothing to do. Her homework was finished, she had no special projects to do, she had already completed her daily training in the Danger Room, and the others were already busy doing their own things. 

Jean and Scott were gone, enjoying one of Duncan Matthew's "No Freshmen" parties; Rogue and Kurt were having one of their bonding nights, so they were probably eating dinner somewhere or watching a movie; and Evan was at the park shooting hoops with some of this basketball team buddies. This left Kitty, who had turned down Kurt and Rogue's invitation under the assumption that her homework would take all night to complete, all alone. 

_This, like, totally sucks!_

Kitty frowned and stood up off of her bed, leaving her homework papers scattered and abandoned. There had to be something she could do on this ever open Friday night. 

_If only I had a boyfriend..._

Kitty sighed dreamily, her gaze settling on the posters that adorned some of her wall (well, the Rogue-approved ones, anyway, as the others had to be taken down after Rogue threatened to do some horrible things to them). 

"Oh, Lance, if only," she said wistfully to her N*SYNC poster. She blinked. "_Lance?!_ Oh my God! Ew!" she exclaimed with disgust as she realized her favorite teen-idol shared the same name as that boneheaded Brotherhood jerk. 

Kitty needed romance. Kitty needed excitement. Kitty did _not_ need Lance Alvers in her head. She knew the perfect way to take care of those three things: watch a movie. Watch a nice, romantic, exciting movie. 

_But, what's out now?_ she asked herself, then relayed a mental list of movies to her head. _"Tomb Raider", but ick, that's, like, a total guy movie. "Evolution", but that looks so stupid! There's "Shrek", but that's gonna be filled with screaming kids. Same for "Atlantis". And I've already seen "A Knight's Tale" twice! So, what else is there? _

Oh, I know! "Moulin Rouge"! I heard it was, like, totally romantic! 

Yes, that's what she needed. A nice, long, romantic movie that-- bonus, bonus!-- starred the ever-fine Ewan McGregor. 

Giggling with glee, she grabbed her purse and headed out to the movie theater. 

* * * * * 

Pietro was totally pissed off. How could they do this to him?! _Him!_ It didn't make any sense at all! Oh, sure, Lance made up some excuses, but he was sure that was all just a ploy to ditch him. 

_"You've still got a fever, you can't go out!"_

_Yeah, sure, Lance_, he retorted to the memory with a scoff. _You don't know yet what _sick_ is!_ came another thought, this time of the vengeful variety. He wasn't sure how that would work as a threat... _Maybe I should cough on his pillow..._

Pietro shook his head at his own suggestion. Maybe that would be a little too mean. Besides, if he got Lance sick, then _he'd_ have to stay up all night aiding the ill. 

_I'll show them! I'll go out, too, and have fun without 'em! And I won't get even sicker in the process, so there! I'll show Lance!_

Pietro nodded in affirmation. Now, what to do? It had been a while since he had seen a movie, what with school and harassing the X-Men and all. Plus, that's where the others went, anyway, so it'd be a perfect opportunity to show them that he could do anything they did, even while (_NOT_) sick. 

Kicking his blanket off and leaning over the coffee table, he grabbed the newspaper and skipped over to the entertainment section. It was then that the fault in his plan dawned on him. 

_Hm... if I go to the same movie as Lance, then he'll just send me home. But I _want_ to go to the movies! Maybe, I'll go to a _different_ one, then mock them later when... uh... I come home and say "Ha! I was out at the movies and didn't die from my stupid not-even-a-real-threat-to-myself virus!"_

"Yeaaaah," he whispered to himself, grinning, then turned his attention back to the newspaper. _Okay, what would they be watching? "Tomb Raider", most likely, but then again, Todd had expressed some interest in "Evolution"... "Shrek" might actually be where they're at, but maybe not... Oh well, I don't wanna be in stuck in a theater filled with screaming kids. Same for "Atlantis". And there's no way in hell I'm seeing "A Knight's Tale"... So, what else is there? _

Oh, I know! "Moulin Rouge"! I heard it was pretty good, and Lance and the guys definitely_ won't be there. There's no way they'd go to a musical romance! Haha! And I won't have to deal with screaming children!_

Yes, that's what he needed. A movie that the Brotherhood and screaming children would avoid. Plus, he could tolerate all of the singing and romance crap because-- bonus, bonus!-- a really hot Nicole Kidman would be starring in the flick. 

Pietro glanced at the times and nodded once more. Excellent. The next showing was in 20 minutes, which gave him more than enough time to clean himself up and go to the theater. 

Chuckling at his own genius (_Ha ha! I'm going against your tyrannical "For your own good" orders, Lance, what are you gonna do about it? Huh? Nothin', that's what!_), Pietro got up from the couch and ran to the bathroom to clean up. 

After an entire day of being cooped up in the house, Pietro was really looking forward to this. 

* * * * *

A/N: I can't believe I titled this fic after a song. Oh well! Erm... yeah... I really don't have anymore notes for this fic, except that I didn't plan it out before I wrote it, so I don't know what's happening next. I don't even know what Scott and Lance's project is!! 


	2. No, Satine, Don't Sleep With the Duke!

A/N: Well, this chapter's crap. Not as bad as I'm capable of (hehehe >=D), but pretty bad. This would be because I CAN'T see Pietro as straight! I'm so tempted to have him just jump on Lance and then this would turn into a totally different story and a lot of people would probably hate me, hehe. Oh well, I think that's my mind's way of telling me to work on the sequel to "Slushies", except that while I have the whole thing planned out (actually I've had since, uh... around chapter 2 of its predecessor), I can't begin the stupid thing! And besides that, I have the dumb Duncan story I wanted to work on for fun (but it's so pathetically plotless... poor Duncan...), AND the Scott/Lance/Pietro thing that I've decided to do because people apparently want me to write Scott/Lance and I can't bear the thought of writing anything without Pietro getting involved and I need to stop rambling about that now (that story might turn out so insane that I'll get flamed off the planet). *sigh* 

Anyway, Kitty and Pietro are ridiculously immature in this chapter. I'll keep that in check in the future. I'm still not sure what's going to happen in this story, though, if it goes my way, there will be a future chapter entitled "Real Men Do Yoga". Be afraid. Anyway, that's all till the bottom. Oh yeah, there shouldn't be any spoilers for "Moulin Rouge" in this chapter (just for those of you who haven't seen it yet). I mean, the references I make should only make sense if you've seen the movie, anyway. 

**Chapter 2: No, Satine, Don't Sleep With the Duke!**

Kitty took another glance at her watch, hoping that even though she checked it two seconds ago, time would magically go backwards for her. Maybe she shouldn't have gotten in line for snacks... Oh well, she had waited this long to inch her way to the front of the line, so she wasn't going to leave now, when there was only one person left in front of her. Well, one person ordering for three others-- three others who demanded an ungodly amount of food, yet couldn't quite decide on what they wanted. 

Kitty sighed and looked at her watch once again. _Only two more minutes until the movie starts. Like, come on, people, some of us are in a hurry!_

The harried looking employee behind the counter finally managed to get the order together, and after fastidiously counting every dollar, dime, and penny handed to him, he was finally ready to tend to a very impatient Kitty Pryde. 

"Can I help you?" 

_No, I was just, like, standing here for fifteen minutes for kicks._ "Yes, I'd like a medium diet Coke and a small popcorn, please," she said in the sweetest voice she could muster, considering her slightly fouled mood. The gangly young man nodded and, taking his time, began to gather the popcorn and drink. Tapping her foot impatiently, she looked at her watch once more. _Great, the movie, like, starts in one minute. Hurry up!_

"Here you go," he said, pushing the snacks over to her. "That'll be five dollars." 

Kitty blinked. Was it just her, or did _everything_ seem to move twice as slow when one was in a hurry. It was as if she moved at a different pace from everybody else. _This must be how that jerk Quicksilver feels all the time,_ she mused as she handed the money to the sedate employee who had so successfully wasted more of her time. "Thanks," she uttered, grabbing her sparse meal and rushing to the appropriate theater. She glanced up at the flashing sign above the door which read: "Moulin Rouge: 7:40 - Now Showing" and cursed softly (well, "cursed" as much as she was capable of, which was actually rather mild to the ears of most people). 

She pushed the door open and did a quick sprint to the front row, stopping as her eyes adjusted to the dim lights and made out two familiar faces. It was Kurt and Rogue. 

_Oh, no! I can't let them see me here! It might totally crash their plans for the night! Plus, it'll be, like, so awkward since I already turned them down!_

Kitty swiftly brought the bag of popcorn up to obscure her face from their view and carefully made her way to the very top row. 

"Sorry. Sorry. Excuse me," she murmured as she squeezed her way past people and dropped down onto the middle-- and only unoccupied-- seat. Luckily, thanks to the wonder of stadium seating, she still had a very good view of the screen and noticed that the only thing she had missed so far was a preview or two. As she attempted to place her drink in the cup holder, her arm collided with the arm of the person beside her. 

"Oops, sorry," she apologized, glad that in the dark her neighbor couldn't see her flush. She looked over at the person beside her, then squeaked in disgusted surprise. "Ew! Like, what are you doing here?!" 

"Like, watching a movie," he retorted sardonically. 

Kitty couldn't believe it. Of all the places, of all the people... Why did it have to be _Pietro Maximoff_ she was stuck sitting next to while waiting to watch a lovely, romantic film? It would totally mess up the mood! This was bad luck at its worst. 

No. Kitty was not about to let him ruin her night. She was going to do something about it. She was going to be... assertive! "Can't you, like, move to another seat? Preferably one in a different theater." 

"Hey, I was here first!" he hissed in return. "Why don't you move?" 

"Because, I need to sit as far away from the front row as possible! So move!" 

"Uh uh," he said stubbornly, shaking his head. "You move." 

"You!" 

"_You!_ I was here first, and-- oooh! 'Planet of the Apes'!" Immediately, his attention was drawn to the trailer on the screen, leaving Kitty with an odd, annoying feeling of rejection. 

_How dare he ignore me for that stupid preview! You can't ditch Kitty Pryde that easily!_

"Hey, Pryde, see any of your relatives?" 

"Ugh! That was so lame! Like, can't you think of any better insult?" At this, Pietro scowled, causing Kitty to smirk with a small sense of triumph. "What are you doing at _this_ movie, anyway, Quickie?" 

"Defying Lance the Tyrant, not that that's any of _your_ business, Pryde-- and don't call me Quickie!" 

"Whatever." Kitty, having now had the last word, disregarded him with a toss of her hair and turned her attention back to the screen. The lights dimmed further and the usual Warner Brothers' fanfare indicated that the movie was about to begin. Kitty bit her bottom lip in anticipation and bounced in her seat, forgetting all about the totally icksome Pietro Maximoff and waiting eagerly to gaze upon Ewan McGregor's gorgeous face. 

There was no way she was letting somebody like _Pietro_ ruin the movie for her. 

* * * * * 

_Wow, this movie's long..._ Pietro noted as the narcoleptic Argentinean began to recite the words that would ultimately lead into the song "Roxanne". Of course, this wasn't saying much, as he had found himself thinking that earlier, when he was only twenty minutes into the movie. 

However, by this point in time, every time he blinked, he found himself getting lulled away to sleepy land. He knew this didn't stem from boredom, but rather, his bug. _No matter. I'll just take another sip of Sprite and I'll be o-- crap!_

He sucked. And sucked and sucked, but found nary a droplet of the sweet drink. _Damn it! Now how am I gonna stay awake?_ he griped mentally as he began to chew on his straw. For the past thirty minutes, he had been functioning on hearty doses of Sprite, but without it... well, he'd probably either fall asleep or throw up, since it was also the only thing keeping the popcorn down. _I knew it was a mistake to get that..._

Sighing, he slumped back in his seat and glanced over at Kitty, who seemed to be lapping up every saccharine word of the flick. This didn't surprise him, since it was probably the kind of movie girls like her enjoyed-- after all, the film was just a chick flick to satisfy the fantasies of lonely, boyfriend-less girls like Kitty Pryde. 

Pietro turned his attention back to the screen, hardly wanting to admit to himself that he actually was enjoying it himself. Oh well, enjoying a romantic musical didn't say anything about him as a guy, right? It spoke nothing of his manliness or his rock-solid sexuality. Nope, not at all. 

_No, Satine, don't sleep with the Duke! Agg... what the hell am I thinking?!_

Great, he was actually getting _into_ it. He glanced at Kitty once more, watching the worry on the stupid dip's face, and couldn't help but feel like, in some absurd way, they were on a date. How ridiculous. Like he would ever go on a date with _her_ anyway, when he could have any girl in Bayville-- no, in New York! 

Pietro quickly looked back at the screen as Kitty curiously brought her gaze in his direction. _Stupid romance. That's the only reason why I'm looking at her-- 'cause this movie's got me all hopped up on this sickly sweet romantic crap. Well, she is kinda cute in a vanilla way-- no! No she isn't! She's nothing but one of Lance's left-over crushes. That's it. EndOfStory-- no, Satine!_

The show went on, and somehow Pietro managed to survive the rather lengthy movie even without the aid of Sprite. Actually, by the end, he almost found himself teary eyed, but managed to prevent himself from turning into mush by concentrating on the morbidly giggling baby a couple of rows in front of him. He was caught between laughing, crying, passing out, and vomiting. Oh, the joys of being ill at a sad movie while trying to focus on the creepy laughter of a small child. 

The lights brightened, and he attempted to stand up on rather wobbly legs. _I'm not feeling that bad. I'm not going to give Lance the satisfaction of being right!_ His hand fluttered up to feel his forehead, but he wasn't quite sure how warm he was supposed to be to be considered sick. _Okay, maybe I am feeling kind of diseased..._

"Hey, Pryde, feel my forehead. Am I hot?" 

"What the-- like, no way! I'm not going to touch _you!_" she returned rather loudly with apparent disgust in her voice. 

From further down the rows, Kurt and Rogue took notice to the familiar voice and stopped in their tracks to listen to the small debate going on between Kitty and Pietro. 

"Feel my forehead!" 

"No! Is that, like, some kind of sick fetish you have?" 

"I just want to know if I'm hot!" 

"You're not hot and you're never going to be hot!" 

"Not that kind of hot! I mean warm! Am I warm?" 

"Ask someone else to feel you up!" 

"Oh, fine! No wonder you have no boyfriend, you're too squeamish to even touch a guy!" 

"That's not true! I can totally touch a guy, I just don't want to touch you, loser! I don't care how warm you are!" 

"So if I die, you won't care that it'll be all your fault?" Pietro questioned heatedly, beginning to feel a little faint from the arguing mixed in with all of his other symptoms. 

"Like, no way! Well, maybe-- no, no I won't, 'cause it wouldn't even be my fault! What are you doing here if you're sick, anyway?" 

"I told you, I'm defying Lance's dictatorial rules!" 

"Ugh, you're, like, such an idiot!" 

"I'd rather be an idiot than a dippy valley girl wannabe!" 

"Hey! You albino punk!" 

"You-- you!" 

"Oh that was original." 

"Shut up!" 

"You shut up!" 

"No, you shu-- uhhh..." 

Kitty then watched widened eyes as Pietro fainted onto the not too sanitary floor. _Oh my God, he's dead! No, no, this can't be happening. He's not dead! And even if he was, it's, like, not my fault at all! He's the one who decided to go out while sick!_

Looking around frantically, she spotted a worried Rogue running up to her row and then-- 

*Bamf!* 

Kitty let out a small, surprised shriek as Kurt appeared next to her, looking rather confused. 

"Kitty, vhat iz it?" he asked in a concerned voice, then noticed the unconscious Pietro. "_Scheisse!_ Ah, uh, I mean, Kitty, vhat happened?" 

"Yeah, and what are you doin' here? Ah thought you said you were stayin' home tonight," Rogue commented as she reached the two (well, three, but Pietro didn't really count at the moment). 

"I finished my homework early, so I thought I'd catch a movie, and he was here, and I got stuck sitting next to him, and he was being a stupid jerk, then he wanted me to feel his forehead, then he, like, passed out, you know?!" she explained quickly and frantically. 

"Um, okay," the other two responded slowly, after having to decipher what the near hysterical girl was saying. There was a long pause as they tried to think of some way to solve the problem. Finally, Rogue spoke up. 

"Well, as much as Ah hate sayin' this, we can't just leave him here." 

"So, vhat are ve going to do, Rogue?" 

"Ah think you should teleport him to the mansion, then we'll contact his... _owners_ and have them pick him up." Kurt gave a nod in agreement, then Rogue continued with: "Come on, Kitty, we'll walk home." 

Kitty nodded, then stooped down and tentatively brushed her hand across the unconscious boy's forehead. _Wow, he really was burning up,_ she thought with a slight pang of guilt as she followed the older girl out of the theater. 

* * * * * 

"How could you bring him into the house without consulting me or the Professor!" Scott exploded as he stormed into Kurt's room, followed by a calm looking Jean. 

"Well, hello to you, too," Rogue commented, rolling her eyes. "We called ya, at least." 

"Yeah, and, like, we couldn't just leave him unconscious in the theater!" the still distressed Kitty exclaimed. She couldn't help but feel it was partially her fault that her enemy fainted. 

"And ze Prof already knows, _mein Freund_. He iz psychic, after all--" 

"Bringing this-- this delinquent into the house was both careless and stupid!" Scott snapped, still furious, though he seemed to be cooling off a bit. He turned his attention to Pietro, who was lying on Kurt's bed, still out. "What are we going to do with him when he wakes up?!" 

"Call Lance and have him pick his pet albino up," Rogue answered simply. 

"Lance's pet albino has ears, you know," Pietro murmured softly, not yet opening his eyes. Kitty practically jumped up in excitement and rushed over to his side. 

"So, you're, like, okay?" 

"I'd be better if I didn't have to hear your shrill voice--" 

"Okay, okay. Geez, maybe we should've, like, left him in the theater." 

"Where am I?" Pietro struggled to sit up, then glanced at the faces all around him. _I had this crazy dream. And you were there. And you were there. And you were there!_ he thought wryly, feeling a bit like Dorothy from "The Wizard of Oz" for a brief moment. 

"You're in the Institute. This is Kurt's room," Jean explained gently, though she too was eager to get the speed demon out of her home. 

"Blue boy's-- you guys didn't do weird things to me did you? Did you?! IWantOuttaHere!" Immediately after declaring that, he leaped out of bed, then attempted to run out, but ended up colliding with Summers instead. "Gah..." 

"Okay, calm down, dude," Scott said, helping him up. "Just tell us where you live and we'll drive you back to your place." 

"Why am I here?" Pietro inquired in a hostile voice, pulling out of Scott's helpful hold quickly. 

"Because, you, like, fainted," Kitty offered, since she was the only one who actually saw it happen. 

"Told you you should've felt my forehead!" 

"It's not my fault, you know!" 

"It's still your fault." 

"Nuh uh!" 

"Yuh huh!" 

"Nuh uh!" 

"_Mein Gott_," Kurt murmured in amazement as the two continued to argue. 

"Will you two shut up!" Scott suddenly bellowed over the two. Abruptly, the spat ended and the two quibbling children looked at him. "Come on, Pietro, the sooner we get you out of here, the better." 

"I'm not getting in a car with you! Call Lance and have him pick me up." 

"No way! We can't let him into the mansion, it's bad enough you're here!" 

"Well, I'm not getting in a car with any of you X-Freaks, so you either call Lance, or you're stuck with me," Pietro said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest to indicate how serious he was. 

"Geez," Scott muttered, then threw an "I'm going to kill you" look at Kitty, Rogue, and Kurt, who were now regretting their good deed. "Fine. Tell me your number and I'll call him." 

"I don't wanna give my number to you." 

"I need to know it anyway, since I'm stuck doing that stupid project with Alvers, so _give me your God damn number!_" Scott demanded, finally losing his temper and grabbing the smaller boy by the front of his shirt. 

Pietro stared at Scott with widened eyes, then stammered: "O-okay." 

* * * * * 

Lance threw an "I'm going to kill you" look at Pietro as he cautiously stepped into the mansion. "What the hell are you doing here?" He already knew why Pietro was there, but it seemed like the proper question to snap at the boy. 

"They kidnapped me!" 

Lance glanced suspiciously at the five miffed X-Men, then took his younger teammate by the arm like he was leading a small child. "Okay, let's go. Thanks for not leaving him in a gutter somewhere," he muttered reluctantly. 

"Good riddance," Rogue uttered under her breath. 

"Oh, hey, wait up, Alvers!" Scott suddenly said, causing Lance to stop and face the spectacled mutant. 

"What?" 

"Um, here," he said almost bashfully, handing a small sheet of paper to the surly teen. "My number. I figure we should get together sometime this weekend and start working on that history project." 

Lance stared at the piece of paper like it was about to explode, then shrugged. "Whatever," he muttered, stuffing it into his pocket. He then continued to pull Pietro out of the house, and as the door shut behind them, Scott turned to Kurt, Kitty, and Rogue and said: "You guys are _so_ grounded." 

Meanwhile, Lance was dragging Pietro to his Wrangler, scowling. "Why the hell did you go out? I told you to stay home tonight!" 

"I was feeling all right, and I was bored, so..." 

"So you decided to go hang out at a movie with the X-Geeks?" 

"_No_. They happened to be there by coincidence. I just wanted to prove to you that I'm healthy enough to leave the house!" 

"And so you passed out in the theater," Lance remarked as he got into the driver's seat and thrust the key in the ignition. Instead of turning the car on, he turned and stared at Pietro expectantly. 

"What?" 

"You do realize that you're going to be doing the cooking for the next two weeks, right?" 

"I can handle that." _I'm the only one of us who can cook a half-decent meal anyway._

"And the laundry." 

"Fine." _Piece of cake._

"And my homework." 

"Hey!" _Fine. I'll just put really stupid answers down for everything, ha ha ha!_

"Like I'd trust you to put the right answers down," Lance said, managing to smile a bit. "Anyway, serves you right for not listening to me." 

"Sorry, _mom._" 

Lance rolled his eyes and started the jeep. "You're also grounded from the television and your non-existent friends." 

"Hey, that's just cold. And since when did you have the authority to do that?!" 

"Yeah, well, because of your ingenious actions, I have to actually get started on my stupid project with that stupid X-Geek Summers. And I have the authority because I'm the oldest, so there." 

"Tyrant." 

"Thank you." 

Pietro buckled his seat belt and slouched back in his seat. _This is all that stupid Kitty Pryde's fault. If she had just left me unconscious on the floor, this wouldn't have happened. I would've woken up on my own and just gone back home... where Lance would still find out I've been out of the house, but he probably wouldn't've cared as much because he wouldn't have known I had actually blacked out. Stupid Kitty Pryde. She probably planned this somehow! I'll get her for this!_

* * * * *

A/N: My God, this chapter is almost all dialogue. *shudder* You know, if you really want to read a good Pietro/Kitty fic, read Alex Destine's. Oh, and there's somebody who reviewed that apparently knows me, but... I don't know who you are. :D Well, I probably do, but not by the screen name and... yeah... that's all. I'm just a little curious. 

Poor Lance, he has very little time in this chapter. Oh well, the next should be mostly about him. And maybe Freddy and Todd'll get some more scenes, since I love 'em so much. There's one thing I learned from writing this chapter: I HATE WRITING ABOUT THE X-MEN! Damn! Why, oh why, did I have to make this an X-Man/Brotherhood Boy story?! Erm, anywho... yeah... I hate writing accents... Stupid Kurt and Rogue. By the way, they're not dating in this fic (if it seems like they are), they're just hanging out together. 

You know, I like the thought of writing slash right now more and more. Bye bye! *time to work on a different story for the evening!* 


End file.
